


the love in the air is thicker than the smoke

by bitchietozier (ResonanceAesthetic)



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Child Abuse, Cussing, Drunk Kisses, F/M, First Kiss, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Build, Stan is gay, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush, buncha cute shit, eddie will get better, im so sorry yall, lots of that shit, richie flirts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-18 14:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResonanceAesthetic/pseuds/bitchietozier
Summary: over the course of the summer before and their senior year of high school, richie tozier and eddie kaspbrak have to figure themselves out before they lose each other to college.





	1. genesis; end of junior year

The biggest party of their junior year was going to be thrown that night, and Eddie Kaspbrak dared to tell his friends that he would not be attending. It was Richie Tozier who threw the biggest fit about it.

**Eddie // Richie**

_Richie: hey eds are you out of your fuckin mind? its the last and biggest party of your junior year and youre gonna bail?_

_Eddie: I don’t like parties, Richie._

Richie read the text and almost flung his phone across his room. Eddie was lying, and his clean-cut grammar annoyed the hell out of Richie. He took a moment to compose his irritation before expelling part of it into a text.

_Richie: thats a lie and we both know it. you can party hard as all fuck when you really want to. theres something bothering you._

_Eddie: Nothing’s bothering me, Richie. I just don’t want to fucking go this time._

_Richie: im already on my way to your house, you stubborn ass. you better be fuckin ready by the time im in your driveway or im kicking your ass._

Ten minutes passed before Richie heard his ringer go off; Eddie’s short response of “Fine” made Richie’s face light up with a cocky smirk. He knew that Eddie would be mad at him, but it would be worth it. Eddie couldn’t afford to miss the last party of the year. Richie piled his shit—beer stolen from his dad, stolen cigarettes, and small firecrackers—into his car and sped towards his destination. The night air was cool and laced with the tension of fate, and Richie could feel it in his veins. It took a mere ten minutes to reach the Kaspbrak household. Just as expected, pissy Eddie sat in his own driveway; he looked as if he had just showered, for his hair was still wet. The boy in the car reached over and opened the passenger car door. He shot a nonchalant nod to Eddie, and the other huffed, hesitantly rose to his feet, and got into Richie’s car. Eddie dared not to look at Richie, for it would grant the other the satisfaction of knowing his anger was a façade. Instead, he composed himself. 

“Richie, whose party are we going to?”

Eddie heard a laugh. “Honestly, hell if I know. I just heard about it from rumors. It’s at some kid’s house who I’ve never even fucking heard of. You’d think you knew everyone since Derry is the size of your micropenis, but I guess I was wrong,” Richie paused, “Don’t worry, Ed’s, you’ll have some kind of fun.”

“I goddamn hope so. You dragged me out of my house last minute, and my ma nearly went into cardiac arrest.”

“She doesn’t like me, right?”

Eddie scoffed. “What’s not to like about you? You drink, smoke, steal shit, and you’re about to give yourself another year of high school if you don’t fix your goddamn grades. You’re borderline bad-boy material.”

“Aw, Eddie, how sweet,” Richie took his right hand from the wheel to attempt to give the other a noogie, but Eddie swatted it away. Richie cooed, “ _You_ still like me, don’t you?”

Blood rushed to Eddie’s cheeks, but he was filled with disdain for it. “You’re like the brother I never had, asshole.”

Richie’s smile dropped for a heartbeat, and Eddie thought that maybe that wasn’t the response he was expecting. But why would he want anything more than the friendship they already had? Before Eddie had time to mull it over, the car had come to a stop. Richie hopped out of the car and shot a glance towards Eddie. “Are you waiting for me to open the door for you, princess?” He asked, sarcasm sharpening his voice like a blade. Eddie shook himself from his thoughts and shot a playful glare back. The boy in the passenger seat had just gathered himself before Richie, already nearly at the front door of the house with his bag of stolen goods, looked back to see if he had actually left the car. Richie smiled and clapped; Eddie took a bow. 

They entered the party together. Loud, blasting music drowned out Eddie’s thoughts immediately. The crowd instantly welcomed Richie, for he had grown somewhat in popularity due to his party animal and bad boy act. As the sea of people consumed Richie, Eddie was left to his own devices. He wandered until he found fellow loser Bill Denbrough, who was standing near the table of booze looking bored. Bill caught his gaze and nodded to him. 

“Did Richie d-drag you here, E-Eddie?” Bill’s stutter had loosened its grip on him, but it still prevented him from moving up the social ladder much. 

“Yeah. The asshole nearly ran me over in my own driveway to get me to come with him. What brings you here?”

Bill looked into his cup and swished the liquid inside around. “Bev still has s-school, and she couldn’t st-stay up as long as she wanted to. I-I had noth-nothing better to do. This puh-party isn’t as bad as it could be, Eddie. Try and e-en-enjoy yourself.” 

Bill offered his friend a can of beer, which Eddie hesitantly accepted. The next two hours seemed to gallop by as Bill and Eddie enjoyed each other’s presence under the heavy influence of beer. Suddenly, however, drunken Eddie was startled by a loud bang outside. Bill and Eddie sauntered outside to find that some people were lighting up Richie’s firecrackers while the enabler stood far to the side by himself. The alcohol exposed Eddie to a new way of seeing his best friend. The boy was beautiful. His loose, black curls looked soft in the warm light of the glow of the firecrackers. Eddie, again, felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Muttering a quick “See ya later” to Bill, he slowly made his way towards Richie. Upon arrival, he tripped. He cringed in preparation for collision with the hard ground, but no pain came. Instead, Richie had caught Eddie. Eddie looked up at his savior and gawked at how tall Richie had grown—nearly a head taller than himself. 

Eddie felt his face redden. “Fuck, sorry,” he stammered.

“Holy shit, Eddie, are you fucking drunk?” 

“So what if I am? You told me I’d have some kinda fun. Here I am.”

“How much have you even had to drink?”

“Don’t fucking laugh at me.”

Richie raised his hands and shook his head. “You have my word, Ed’s.”

“Two cans.”

Richie snorted but tried to suppress his laughter as Eddie glared at him. Richie sat on the grass and patted next to him, signaling Eddie to follow his lead. As they sat, Eddie leaned his head on Richie’s shoulder. Eddie allowed himself to take in the boy next to him.

“Hey Richie, you look really good tonight.”

Richie looked surprised, blushed, and turned to look at the boy leaning on him. “Are you trying to hit on me?”

Eddie remained unfazed. “Maybe.”

Richie’s breath hitched in his throat. He slowly leaned down, eyeing the shorter boy’s lips. Eddie’s eyes wandered towards Richie’s, and his eyes fluttered shut. Their lips met softly; the taste of alcohol lingered. Richie nibbled and pulled daintily on Eddie’s bottom lip as if it would break if he were to be rough. Eddie whimpered into the other’s mouth quietly. Meanwhile, Bill Denbrough did not believe what he was witnessing.


	2. icarus; the beginning of the summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when i read this over, i was so fucking shook. 
> 
> be warned, theres major angst and some homophobic slurs.

Two days had passed since the last party of junior year. Most of Derry’s students were well adjusting to their newfound freedom, but Richie Tozier had stayed close to home. Despite sending him multiple texts and calls, Eddie had gone M.I.A. Richie was worried. He fell back onto his bed with a huff and checked his phone. Nothing. No texts, no calls, no nothing. He was about to fall asleep before the sharp noise of his ringer pierced his ears. It was Bill.

**Bill // Richie**

_Bill: hey come down to the barrens when you can._

_Richie: ok but why?_

_Bill: one, you have nothing better to do. two, we wanna talk to you face to face._

_Richie: we?_

_Bill: just get down here dipshit you arent gonna get fucking murdered_

_Richie: settle back easy bill im on my way_

Richie rose to his feet with a groan. He checked his phone again to see if Eddie had responded to anything, but he found nothing. What the fuck had happened? He stumbled to the bathroom and put his contacts in—he had broken his glasses and took it as a sign during freshman year. He made his way down the stairs and into the garage, which was carless. “Fuck,” he murmured. His dad had taken the car, and his mom was nowhere to be seen. Richie shrugged and took his bike. On the way to the Barrens, Richie passed the Kaspbrak household. Worry pooled in his stomach as he noticed that the house seemed completely empty, and he rode faster. Where was Eddie?  
Bill and Stan were waiting for Richie near the stream. As Richie walked towards them, Bill glanced wearily at Stan. Stan nodded, and Bill cleared his throat.

“Glad to s-see you actually c-came.”

“Yeah sure, asshole. What’s going on? What’s this shit about? And why is Eddie’s house fucking empty?” Richie’s voice grew slightly high-pitched with nerves. 

“A-about that,” Bill tried to say more, but he faltered and looked towards Stan. 

“Eddie is… looking at going away for the summer,” Stan said as he looked at his feet.

Richie’s stomach dropped. “Wait, why? I-I didn’t do anything to him-” Richie couldn’t finish his sentence before the memories flooded back to him like a tidal wave. He remembered the taste of alcohol on his tongue and the soft lips pressed against his own. He remembered pulling away feeling content, but he had seen the regret and fear in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie had left shortly after, and Richie, being a fool in his slight inebriation, had no idea why. It was all coming back now. Richie’s eyes glazed over; he sat down on the fallen log and covered his face with his hands. 

“This is my fucking fault,” Richie’s voice trembled, “When did he tell you this? I’ve been trying to reach him for the past two days, but I’ve gotten fucking nothing.”

Bill was able to compose his thoughts this time. “I-If it makes you feel any better, Richie,” he started, “h-h-he did say that he’d received e-everything: the texts, the cuh-calls, all of it. The thing is… he’s afraid of w-what will happen if he sees you again. He s-s-said that what happened at the puh-party can’t happen again. He’s afraid of w-what would happen if his damned muh-ma found out.”

“Fuck his goddamned ma! She’s too busy sucking God’s dick to realize that her son isn’t sick mentally or physically!” Richie was crying. He looked towards Stan apologetically. “I’m sorry, Stan. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Stan exhaled through his nose and sat down beside Richie on the log. “Don’t worry about it. You know my father was the same way when he found out I wasn’t straight. He didn’t want his son to be the ‘sinful, sodomist faggot’. He almost drove himself to the breaking point trying to ‘pray the gay away’. One day, though, he just gave up. I guess he realized that some things couldn’t be changed through prayer. He hasn’t been accepting, but I guess his silence is better than his insults. My guess, Richie, is that Eddie is very afraid right now. He hasn’t been out to anyone, and his kiss with you was probably his first time being out to himself. I would say to give him space, but I also think that going away for the summer will make things worse.”

Silence followed Stan’s words. Richie was drying his eyes with his sleeve. Bill sat on the other side of Richie and put his arm around him; his stutter broke the mournful quiet.

“I-I think you should go to him b-before he leaves. You might not be able to stuh-stop him from leaving D-Derry for the summer, but at least you’ll get the ch-chance to talk to him face-to-face.”

Richie nodded. “I think you’re right, Bill. Thanks, you guys. I’ll catch you later.” The boy in the middle reached his arms around the other two and hugged them tightly. He walked up the hill, leaving Bill and Stan sitting on the log alone. Bill took a deep breath in.

“Stan, d-do you think they’ll work it out?”

The Jewish boy sat in thought for a few moments. “They have hope. You know the old cliché: love conquers fear.”

:::

The sun was slowly disappearing behind the trees. The sky was painted beautifully; the sea of blue was being interrupted by streaks of oranges and pinks. As he rode as quickly as he could to the Kaspbrak house, Richie looked at the sky and believed that it was the most beautiful sunset he had seen in his life. He turned onto Eddie’s street and willed his bike to fly like an eagle swoops upon his prey. He spotted Ms. Kaspbrak’s car in the driveway; the blood in Richie’s veins turned to ice, for there were suitcases strapped to the top of the car. Richie nearly ate the cement as he dismounted his bike and ran for the front door. Right as he raised his fist to knock on the door, the doorknob turned. Eddie opened the door and immediately flinched upon seeing Richie there. His eyes glazed over.

“Richie, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Please give me five minutes, Eddie. Just five minutes of your time.”

Tears gathered in Eddie’s eyes. His gaze pierced Richie as if he were attempting to read his thoughts. 

“Eddie, pleas—”

“Just shut your fucking mouth, Richie.” Eddie looked as if he was about to close the door, but then he turned towards the living room. “Ma! I’m going for a quick walk!” He opened the door, stepped outside, and closed the door behind him. Eddie’s eyes remained puffy from holding back tears. He started walking down the driveway, signaling Richie to follow him. 

“You know I leave tomorrow to stay with family for the summer, right?”

“Bill and Stan told me you were leaving, but I didn’t know it was that soon.”

“So they fuckin’ snitched, huh?”

“I wasn’t supposed to know that my best friend was leaving—”

Eddie whipped around to face Richie. His wet eyes were ablaze with fury, and tears ran down his cheeks. “No, you weren’t supposed to fucking know! And cut the ‘best friend’ bullshit, Richie, because you fucking kissed me at that party! I was emotionally vulnerable and drunk, and you fucking kissed me. I don’t even fucking know why I let myself come out here to talk to you, you goddamn son of a bitch,” Eddie was sobbing at this point, “You used me! You call me your best friend, and then you just used me like that—”  
Richie caved. “I didn’t fucking use you! You came to me, and you hit on me! Sure, just because I’m the big, flirty faggot, you get to fucking blame me for your own gay tendencies! You don’t think I don’t notice your gawking, do you? You won’t even admit you do it, and I know why.” 

Eddie, between his tears and snivels, curled his lip and hissed at Richie. “Don’t you fucking say it, bastard.”

Richie pointed a single finger at Eddie’s chest accusingly. “You’re goddamn afraid.”

Eddie raised his fist and socked Richie in the nose, knocking the taller boy onto the ground. He shook his wrist and cringed slightly, but the hatred returned to his eyes. 

“I’m nothing you say I am,” Eddie muttered as he spat on the ground next to Richie. Richie watched as the smaller boy walked back down the street towards his house. As Eddie disappeared in the distance, Richie sat on the road and wept.

That night Richie dreamt that he was Icarus; he had flown too close to the sun, and now he was plummeting towards the cold sea with burnt wings.


	3. the call to arms; somewhere in early june

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to make my boyses happy, so here they are trying their best. also stan is the greatest friend anyone could ask for.

Richie’s broken nose had finally healed. He had willingly quarantined himself during most of the healing time, for it was too embarrassing to tell the truth and too deceitful to lie about his injury. Fortunately, the quarantine was done, and Richie had plans with all of the Losers Club. The clock read somewhere around 5p.m., and the black-haired boy feverishly threw a light jacket on. Even though it was summer, the blanket of night was expected to bring crisp weather. Richie looked around his room one final time before stashing his remaining stolen cigarettes and heading out the door. His father was on the couch watching football, and he held his hand up to stop Richie before the boy made it to the garage.

“Where you headed out to?”

“None of your goddamn business,” Richie said monotonously. His father feigned paying attention and grunted. Richie had learned that his father didn’t give a shit about him. No matter what he said, he could have walked out the door anyways. Richie rolled his eyes at the thought and continued on. He thanked God, for the car was in the garage; if he had had to ride his bike to where the Losers were meeting, he might have killed himself. He checked his phone to see exactly the location Bill had sent the Losers’ group chat, and then he hopped in and started his car. 

:::

Richie had been driving on a dirt road for a long time. He glanced down at his phone worriedly and then back again to the dark road ahead. Suddenly, Siri blurted out “Arrived” in its robotic voice; Richie yelled and slammed on his brakes. He looked ahead and saw that there were more cars parked on the edge of the road. Voices echoed to his left, and he turned his head to see that there was a small bonfire in an open field with four kids around it. Once he got out of his car, Richie immediately recognized these kids as Ben, Bill, Stan, and Mike. Richie called out to them, and Bill turned around to see him.

“H-hey, Richie!”

“Hey, Bill. Hey, Stan,” Richie made his way towards the bonfire, which was surrounded by a few sitting logs, “Mike, Ben, it’s been a while. I haven’t seen you goons all summer.” As Richie sat down on a short log by himself, Ben gestured towards Richie’s slightly bruised nose.

“Long time no see, Rich. The fuck happened to your nose?”

Stan shot a knowing glance towards Richie, for Richie had told only Stan about what had happened with him and Eddie. Richie caught Stan’s sharp eyes, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

“You wouldn’t believe this shit, Ben,” he forced a laugh as he lied, “I was riding my bike a while back in the woods, and my dumb ass was going down this hill real fuckin’ fast. Then, I hit a goddamn rock and swerved so hard that I ran face-first into a tree. Broke my goddamn nose right then and there.”

Ben, Mike, and Bill laughed at Richie’s misfortune, but Stan knew better; his eyes tore through Richie like talons. He felt his heart ache and instinctively took out and lit a cigarette. He took a drag and watched the smoke dance off his lips as he exhaled, but as the smoke left his lungs, the fact that he missed Eddie continued to pull at his heartstrings. The pure loathing in the smaller boy’s eyes when he had broken his nose haunted Richie daily. That had been nearly a month ago. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Stan sit next to him.

“Rich, are you okay?” Stan feigned a smile and whispered under his breath, for he didn’t want to attract the attention of his other friends. Richie shook his head softly, feeling the lump in his throat form again. Stan nodded in understanding and rested his hand on Richie’s; he leaned over to whisper in the black-haired boy’s ear. “Follow my lead.” Stan cleared his throat, interrupting the banter between the rest of his friends.

“You fucks got a jar? Richie-boy wants to go catch fireflies, but he made the fag ask because he doesn’t wanna crack his masculinity.” 

Taken aback by the improvisation, Richie snorted. Mike laughed a quiet “Yeah” and pulled a jar from out of his backpack. Stan took the jar, took Richie’s hand in his, and led them both farther into the field. Before they were completely out of hearing range, Bill joking yelled “Gay!”

:::

Stan sat upright in the grass next to Richie, who was lying down.

“Have you even tried calling him, Richie?”

“That’s the thing, Stan. I’m so fucking scared that he hates me. I mean, yeah, he and I have fought as friends before, but we were friends. This is a whole goddamn new ballpark.”

Stan half-heartedly laughed. “I get it. I get it. I don’t mean to get God-y on you, but there is something I can say if you want me to.”

“Hit me.”

“In Hebrew, there’s this word _timshel_. It’s found in the book of Genesis, and it roughly translates to ‘thou mayest rule over it’. There’s this whole concept surrounding the word,” as Stan said this he traced a circle in the air with his fingers, “basically, God gives man the choice to overcome his sin and live without fear. A man can make his mistakes and lose the battle, but he can also realize his faults and overcome his fears. Only with courage and self-awareness can he win the war. This applies to you, Richie. You gotta face your fear someday, and you gotta rule the fuck over ‘em,” he shook his fist, “Win that damn war.”

Richie, wide-eyed, looked over. “Damn, Stan. Being the rabbi’s son sure pays off doesn’t it?”

Stan frowned. “Come on, Rich. I’m trying to be serious here—”

Richie’s ringer pierced the air. Half expecting it to be a text from Bill asking if he and Stan were making out, he checked his phone. When he saw the name, Richie dropped the burnt-out cigarette in his mouth.

“Fuck,” he panicked. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s fucking Eddie. He’s calling me.” Richie’s rattled voice cracked. 

Stan shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Win that damn war, Richie. Answer him.” 

Hands shaking, Richie picked up the phone. His eyes darted wildly towards Stan, who definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey… Eddie.”

The voice on the other end was raspy and groggy-sounding. 

_“Richie, hey. I-I, uh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m sorry that I broke your nose. You were right… I’m really fucking scared—”_

He choked out a sob and broke Richie’s heart. 

_“My ma raised me to push all this shit down and pray it away, but it doesn’t work. Fuck, of course it didn’t work, you broke every wall I had built up.”_

Eddie lightly laughed.

_“I’ve denied myself time and time again, but I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t want to hurt us anymore—”_

Richie felt a tear run down his cheek. **Us.**

_“So I’ve decided I want to start anew. Fuck, this is stupid, but I’m gonna need your goddamn help. You’re gonna have to help me stop being afraid. I might do some stupid shit, but I’m gonna need you to help me the fuck out. Can you do that, Richie?”_

Richie nodded, trying to find the words to say as tears started to blur his vision, “F-Fuck, Eddie. Fuck, of course. I’ll do damn near anything; I’ll even let you break my fucking nose again.”

They both laughed shakily. Eddie continued, _“Thank you, Richie. Fucking hell, I miss you. Leaving was a mistake but thank you so fucking much.”_

“Come back soon, Ed’s.”

Stan sat back and watched his dear friend win his own war.


End file.
